The Swan Princess
by a.c.ryder
Summary: Loosely follows the Swan Lake fairy tale, set in FTL post-curse, GoldenSwan. I decided to do 50 one-word prompts.
1. First Kiss

**Disclaimer: I don't own OUAT or the Swan Princess (Swan Lake) storylines.**

**Just wanted to say thank you for BundyShoes for proofing this for me...you are awesome!**

So, I actually started writing this back in like November, it was around the same time that I discovered one word prompts. So, there will be about 50 total, some short, some long, mostly told from Emma's POV, but not always. GoldenSwan throughout the story... So, I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think! :)

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Emma sighed heavily, tossing restlessly in the over-sized bed. It had been a week, only a week and she was crawling out of her skin. For the fourth night in a row sleep eluded her. With the help of Anton the giant and with the threat of Regina and Cora vanquished, they finally made it back to the Enchanted Forest. As thanks, Rumpelstiltskin restored her parent's castle with little more than a wave of his hand – free of charge. But she missed everything; mostly hot running water, electricity and the ability to tell time with something more than the position of the sun. She missed regulated temperatures – the castle was always either too hot or too cold. But the nights were the worst, and they were the longest. At least during the day she could distract herself from the thoughts that would overwhelm her. She was used to the sounds of the city; in some paradoxical way the silence was so loud it was keeping her awake. The castle was big and hollow making her feel even smaller and somehow amplifying the emptiness inside her. She had always been a loner, choosing to guard and isolate herself from everyone. But here, she felt the isolation. She was trapped with no way home.

She should be happier, she knew, she had Henry, and finally after twenty-eight years they were a family. But they could've been happy in Storybrooke. She didn't want to come here and if it wasn't for Henry, she can't say for certain she wouldn't have stayed in that world. This whole life was suddenly thrust upon her and now she was a princess in a foreign world…and she didn't want any of it. The castle was _their_ home; this world was their home. Her home was a world she once hated – one she desperately longed to go back to. She was trapped here with no way home. With a frustrated groan she tossed the blankets from her body, a shiver tore through her as her bare feet touched the cold stone floor. She needed fresh air.

Wrapping herself in a silk robe she opened the door silently, searching for any sign of the guards who always stood watch. When she saw the coast was clear, she snuck down the fire-lit hallway and headed straight for the door. The cool night air ghosted over her skin, instantly cooling the warmth that flushed her face. She closed her robe tighter, crossing her arms over her chest to guard against the chill as she inhaled deeply the floral aroma. A full moon cast the expansive gardens in an eerie glow and combined with the fog hovering over the lake it looked more like the setting for a bad horror movie. While she missed the excitement of the city, she had gained a new appreciation for nature since being here, surrounded by the lush gardens and picturesque mountains across the lake. There was no light pollution to interfere with the endless stars in the night sky, perhaps the only thing that felt truly familiar. She stopped walking not too far from the fountain and closed her eyes, tilting her face to the light of the moon.

"Troubled, dearie?" came his all familiar voice. _And her horror movie was complete_… Her eyes remained closed, somehow not at all surprised that he would be the one to find her like this.

"I don't remember calling your name…" dry sarcasm laced her words, in no mood for his games tonight. Opening her eyes she looked to the fountain he was perched on, smiling weakly as their eyes locked. "How did you know where to find me?"

"I can hear your cries, dearie. They almost rival my own…" his voice was somber, not at all mocking or maniacal as she had heard that first day they arrived.

"I'll try to cry quieter." He smiled, stepping off the marble fountain and walking slowly towards her. If Emma didn't already know the man beneath that hide she'd be paralyzed with fear. If the moon made the garden look eerie, it made Gold look downright terrifying. Though his skin reflected the moonlight, it made him look darker and predatory, and if she didn't know better she might actually think she was in danger.

"Hello Emma…"

"Hey Gold…" she replied hoarsely. His smile only widened and Emma fully expected to get a lecture on 'the power of a name'…it wouldn't be the first time she's heard it. Much to her surprise he said nothing, allowing her to use the name she was familiar with. There was something off about him tonight, though, something akin to sadness that made her want to hug him. He seemed as lonely and as miserable as she was despite that he had Belle and that he and Nea–Bae had been reunited. Not to mention, he was officially the most powerful man in the realm now that Regina and Cora were no longer a threat.

"Why so troubled?" he pressed, offering his elbow. Emma stared skeptically at his arm as if his next words would be _'do we have a deal?', _and accepting his arm meant giving away her firstborn. They had never been friends, especially not in a _let-me-bear-my-soul-to-you_ kind of way. But on some level they always had a connection – a silent understanding and mutual respect. Perhaps it was their brokenness or how expertly they guarded themselves against any who would hurt them; often times shutting out the ones they loved most in fear. Her eyes lifted to his with a small smile, staring into his reptilian like eyes as she linked their elbows together.

They began walking at a snail's pace and she had never been more grateful for this man she once despised. He watched her expectantly, awaiting her answer, and Emma carefully avoided staring at him in this new form. She wondered what his skin would feel like if she were to _accidently_ allow her fingers to brush against his hand. Would it be coarse and grainy like sandpaper or would it be tough like leather and scaled like a crocodile – just as Hook had always called him. It's not that she found him ugly here – it was the most fascinating thing she'd ever seen the way his skin reflected the moonlight. But she missed Gold's face; the perfect smooth skin and his annoyingly perfect hair. She especially missed that silky smooth, seductive voice and those chocolate brown eyes that seemed to search the depths of her soul anytime he looked at her. But upon seeing him in those leather pants that were too tight in all the right places, she in no way missed his stuffy suits. At times she almost found herself envious of Belle, though she'd die before she ever admitted that. She pressed her lips in a tight line to suppress her smile, hoping that reading minds wasn't one of his magical powers.

"I just thought it would be different. I feel so displaced, uncertain of everything. And my parents just…they don't understand why I'm not happy. They're even planning a ball, a sort of celebratory event in my honor that's also meant to boost moral around the kingdom." She almost laughed as the last words escaped her, as if a night of dancing would change the fact that the ogre's were closing in and they were on the brink of war after only one week of being here. _But hey – welcome home, everyone!_ It was tragically misguided.

"Well, now I know what party I'll be crashing…" he replied followed by that high pitched giggle. _Rumpel_ was over the top and chaotic, she had grown so used to Gold's controlled and calm demeanor. But she found herself relaxing in his presence nonetheless.

"Crashing will not be needed; I have every intention of sending you a formal invitation…" his eyes clouded with confusion, shaking his head like he couldn't comprehend her words.

"That will never work, dearie, I try to only go where I'm _not_ _wanted_…"

"My parents still won't want you here…" a finger flew to his mouth, pretending to look thoughtful. Emma stifled the urge to laugh as she watched his performance. He reminded her of a mime with his over-expressive face and the exaggerated movements of his hands – the only real difference was that Gold spoke.

"Very well then, I accept. Am I promised a dance with the Lady of Honor?"

"I can't dance, Gold…" she said shyly, shaking her head as she dropped her gaze to the ground.

"Ah, ah…" he said sternly, moving in front of her. He caught her chin gently in his fingers, lifting her head until their eyes were level. "You are a Princess, dearie, you're not inferior. You must hold your head high, with pride and strength…" his voice was low and thick, she shivered at the feel of his calloused fingertips caressing her jaw line.

"I am an orphan who lives in a castle…" her voice quivered as his fingers moved to trace the edge of her face. The sadness in his eyes at her words was almost enough to make her cry.

"You're so much more…" Emma didn't know how long they stood there, just staring at each other in silence. Abruptly, he pulled away, returning to her side and joining their elbows. "And if you can't dance then we must teach you…I'll help you."

"And what will be your price?" he stopped walking, regarding her with an incredulous and curious glare.

"A dance…at. the. ball."

"Oh, right…sorry, it's a deal and a date."

"You really are troubled tonight, aren't you?" he laughed, a teasing edge to his voice as he resumed walking. Emma laughed lightly, the first time in as many nights as she can remember. It felt good to laugh – it felt even better not feeling the need to lie and pretend that everything was alright.

"Is that a smile, princess?" She pressed into him playfully, knocking him slightly off balance. His elbow clenched tighter to hers and he pulled himself back to her side.

"Don't get me wrong, Gold; I love having my family, but I just wasn't prepared for this. David always talked about this place like it was some kind of heaven on earth. I saw how bad everything was when I was here with Mary the first time. But he was persistent, _we have to go home and take back our land_… Now the ogre's are closing in, the kingdom is still in shambles and it falls on us to fix everyone's problems."

"Yes, that tends to happen when you rule over a kingdom."

"My parent's rule over the kingdom," she corrected curtly.

"And as their daughter you will inherit said kingdom…"

"And I stand by my original reaction and say, _'I didn't ask for that and I don't want it'_." She countered sharply. Gold turned away, his eyes focused intently on the ground.

"I know it's been hard, Emma, and I wish I could tell you it will get easier." Emma bit her tongue, looking around as they came to the end of the garden. The vast lake spread out before them and she basked in the few moments of silence, listening only to the gentle ebb of the water. For a moment, she was even tempted to rest her head against his shoulder, allowing herself to believe that this was all a bad dream. But she knew better, there would be no waking up from this.

"Why did you come visit me?" she asked, her eyes never leaving the lake.

"As I said, I can hear your cries." She leveled him with a curious gaze, letting his words sink in.

"What do they sound like?" he looked at her then, shaking his sadly as he replied, "Agony…bitter, desolate anguish…"

"Wow…and you still sought out my company?" he unlinked their arms, turning his body to face her.

"Emma, you broke the curse, you reunited me with my son – I'd like to do at least one thing to help you." She smiled at the sentiment, but short of taking her away from here, there wasn't much he could do.

"Is your castle far from here?" Confusion and surprise flashed across his face. It was a strange request and she hoped Belle wouldn't mind, but the one thing that would help right now was to get away from this place – to feel less isolated and alone even if only for a few minutes.

"I have magic; we can be there in a flash if you'd like." He said, the excitement rising in his voice.

"I would like…" he raised a quizzical eyebrow, pulling her body tight against him.

"Then hold on tight, dearie…" In a puff of red smoke they appeared in the entryway of his castle. Emma clung to him, her face tucked into his neck as she took a moment to register that her feet were on solid ground. She hadn't been prepared for that. Her skin hummed with electricity, not wanting to leave his embrace. She relished the closeness of his body, the strength of his shifting muscles beneath her fingertips. He, too, seemed unwilling to let her go. Letting her arms slip from his neck she pulled back to face him. He cleared his throat awkwardly, his arms slipping from her waist as he stepped back.

"Welcome to my humble abode, _your highness_…" he said, bowing deep in the knees. Again she laughed at the title and the exaggerated show, attempting to curtsey in her silk robe and pajamas. The doors opened by themselves, and Gold extended his arm leading into the large room. Emma stepped through hesitantly, half expecting to be greeted by dancing teapots and talking candelabras next.

"I thought your son wanted you to get rid of magic." She stated flatly. Looking around the great room reminded her of his shop, intrigued at all the bizarre knick knacks that filled the large space.

"He does." came his pointed reply.

"Then why not ask Belle to kiss you and break your curse once and for all? Regina and Cora are gone now after all…" She paused as he dropped his gaze to the hardwood floor, quiet for a long moment.

"I did and she tried." The implication hung in the air, and Emma nodded sadly in understanding.

"I'm sorry."

"It's no matter…" he replied with a dismissive shrug of his shoulders. Emma stopped when she saw the infamous spinning wheel set just beside the fireplace. She motioned to the stool and raised her eyebrows, silently asking permission to sit. A small smile appeared on his lips, giving the slightest nod of assent.

"Storybrooke changed many things between us," he continued as Emma sat down, letting her fingers drag over the old wooden wheel. "But if it was really true love then the kiss would have worked."

"I thought true love was stronger than regular love – the kind that you can't just snap out of. Like once you're in it, _you're in it_…" He scoffed beneath his breath, and Emma watched him closely through the spinning spokes.

"It is. But in all fairness, it wasn't just her that changed. I will always cherish Belle, but our relationship was doomed to fail from the beginning." She stopped the wheel, disappointed when it didn't turn the straw into gold. Her gaze lifted up to his, propping her elbows on her knees as she studied him.

"So, what changed for you? I never thought I'd live to see the day you two would separate…" he cocked an eyebrow as a playful smile formed on his lips.

"Something you wished for, dearie?" he was clearly teasing her, but with Belle gone possibly for good, Emma decided to just take a risk. At this point, what else did she have to lose?

"Maybe…" The surprise was evident in his eyes as he stared at her, studying her intensely – his eyes full of confusion, want, and hope. Then his expression turned serious. Emma grew self-conscious in his silence, and the room was suddenly too hot. She realized how close she was to the fire and moved quickly from the stool to the windows where she hoped it would be considerably cooler. Gold stalked her movements, trailing in her steps slowly as he approached her. She leaned back against the wall, chiding herself that she had said anything.

"To answer your question…" he began tightly, clearing his throat, "…Another woman came into my life – one whom I desperately hoped would one day learn to love me. When I discovered Belle was alive I was thrilled, but by then…" he closed the distance between them, tucking a wild curl behind her ear, "…my heart was already yearning for someone else…" Her breathing intensified at the soft touch of his fingertips; apprehension and anticipation kept her still, awaiting his advance against her.

"Who…?" She knew the answer by the look in his eyes, but she needed to hear him say it. She needed to hear that it wasn't just her, that he felt the same way about her despite all their fighting, bartering and trying each other's patience. Her breath caught in her throat as his arms slipped loosely around her waist, pressing his body against her.

"You…" he breathed against her lips. Her eyes closed, catching the flash of desire that shone in his eyes as his mouth closed over her lips. His kiss was gentle and soft at first, as though he was afraid of hurting her or scaring her away. She allowed her hands to slide up his chest and into his hair, moaning against his lips as her fingers tangled in silk. His palm warmed her back, sweeping over her spine in slow circles. His mouth moved so lazily, so thoroughly beneath hers; his touch both relaxed and aroused her simultaneously. Her grip tightened in his hair, moving her hand over the expanse of his back.

She had let Gold dictate the pace of their kiss, hoping he'd just realize how much she's wanted this – how much she needed him right now. In an effort to let him know, she gripped his neck a little tighter, silently pleading for more. He obeyed her whim and lightly dipped his tongue into the warm cavern of her mouth. Fire flared inside her at the simple contact as her arms tightened around his neck, clinging to him as she melted into him…into the kiss that did indeed seem to awaken her senses as Gold pulled her closer, cradling her to his chest.

How long how had it been? How long would it be again after this moment ended? The need for more drove her, their once-timid kiss becoming more passionate and fervent. She abandoned all thoughts of control and propriety – it had been too long since she had been kissed, been touched or held. Her mouth opened wider inviting him in, all her resolve melting as he kissed her with tender urgency, claiming her mouth in a way she'd never experienced. It left them both astounded and overwhelmed as he eased back from her, still gently cupping her face as he struggled to pull air into his lungs.

The kiss left her dizzy and for long moments afterwards her eyes remained closed. Her hands gripped his arms for balance, keeping her body joined to his hip, not wanting to lose the connection. When her eyes finally opened, she looked up to see him staring down at her in wonder. Then in the space of a heartbeat, he lowered his mouth back to hers.

"Is Neal…er…Bae here?" she asked abruptly, pulling her head back just before his lips reached her. The last thing she wanted was the drama of her ex-boyfriend walking in to find her making out with his father. Gold rested his forehead against hers, panting for breath as he replied "He's sleeping,"

"Good…" her hand cupped his cheek and she leaned in, eager to claim his lips once again. He met her passion and as their kiss turned demanding and heated, her desire to hold still and bathe in his touch only increased. She needed to feel his hands against her bare flesh, feel his fingers tease and stroke her skin. She wanted to grip the fabric in her hand and yank the shirt off his body, allowing herself to explore every inch of his skin. She couldn't let go of him, though, couldn't move from this spot – her arms seemingly glued behind his back to hold him to her questing mouth.

Gold sank his hand into her hair, firm but gentle, encouraging a rush of desire inside her. She strained against him unable to get close enough as his other hand crept over her hip. He held her to him, and she wasn't sure if his pants were just _that_ tight, or if he was getting as aroused as she was. As if reading her mind, he tore his lips away. Emma groaned in protest, somehow knowing the words he was about to say.

"We can't do this, Emma…not now." He said gruffly.

"No…please," Emma pleaded, pulling his face to hers as she leaned in again. He caught her gently by the wrists, pulling them down as he held her gaze. She mentally cursed herself that she had said anything – it had been so perfect. "Is it Bae? Cause I'll never –"

"It has nothing to do with anyone…" he whispered gently. "If we do this, I want to do it right…"

"Imagine that…" she retorted bitterly, her body still humming in anticipation. "Please tell me you're not seriously going to ask my father's permission…"

"Of course not, he'll tell me no…" Emma huffed at that, almost allowing herself to laugh. "But I'm not going to take advantage while you're so vulnerable either. I may be a monster, dearie, but even I have standards…" Emma gripped the lapels of his shirt bringing her forehead to his as she pulled him closer.

"Please don't send me away." His lips just slightly brushed against her cheek as he whispered the words, "I'll go with you…" The thick cloud surrounded them again and when Emma opened her eyes they were beside her bed. The oppressive weight of her misery came rushing back at the thought of him leaving her here alone.

"Don't pout, dearie…" he pleaded softly, his thumb running along her bottom lip. "Meet me at the edge of the garden tomorrow night, I'll come get you and we can spend some time together." Despite her disappointment, her spirits brightened at the prospect of seeing him again.

"Ok, what time…or wait…there's no clocks." _And there're no cell phones either…_ With each passing moment the idea of returning home was increasingly appealing. His hands pressed against the small of her back, pulling her flush against him.

"How about any time after the sun goes down, whenever you can sneak away; then summon me…" She sighed and pressed her mouth to his, craving the connection one last time. His hands caressed her from hips to shoulder blades, holding her close. She wanted to ask him to stay, to hold her in his arms just long enough until she was asleep. She opened her eyes, pulling away slowly before she couldn't stop herself.

"I'll see you tomorrow night…_Rumpelstiltskin_…" a broad smile formed at her use of his real name and he leaned in, kissing her forehead affectionately.

"Good night, Emma; sweet dreams" And in the blink of an eye he was gone. She fell to her mattress, rubbing her palms into eyes and giggling like a love sick school girl. Was she out of her mind? He was Neal's father and Henry's grandfather, and he just broke up with Belle…her father hated Rumpelstiltskin and would never allow them to see each other.

She didn't care, she realized, what anyone thought. Gold reciprocated her feelings – he had all along. If only she hadn't been so prideful then…if only he hadn't been so crazy they could've been together all this time. She pulled the robe off and tossed it over the canopy, burrowing underneath the covers. She laid her head back against the mass of pillows, running her fingers over her lips once more as the darkness closed in around her.


	2. Final

A/N: So sorry for the delay, RL got in the way again. But here is Ch. 2, I hope you enjoy it... :)

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Dinner had been shared in oppressive silence and Emma stood at the large window of her balcony, reflecting in the room that was once her nursery. The first time she ever saw this room it was a pile of ash and rubble, the ruins of shattered dreams. Now it was remodeled perfectly to an elegant and comfortable shade of blue. Her parents had been sad to see that Rumpelstiltskin did away with her nursery, wanting desperately to hold on to the few precious keepsakes that remained. Emma couldn't be happier with the room as it was, suiting her age and void of any memory of a would-be childhood. It was bad enough knowing what she was supposed to have had all her life much less living in it. But she remembered most what she realized that night, that her parents had given up everything for her.

The last time they were here they were under attack and David was fighting his way through Regina's guards to get Emma to safety. She may have lost the world she knew, but she found the one thing she always wanted – her family. In order to be together and to give Emma life, her parents gave up the world they knew. Knowing that, she thought it would be easier to just accept her life here, that she too could be so honorable and make that sacrifice. It was proving much easier said than done and every day she felt as though she died a little more. She told herself they were just being paranoid and that eventually they would calm down and give her some breathing room. As always, they were just doing what they thought was best. It just so happens on this matter they grossly disagree. With a deep breath she resolved to be a little kinder and try to be a little more understanding towards her parents.

Being here was driving a wedge between her and Henry and every day she felt him slip further from her grasp. Emma rubbed her eyes in exhaustion, trying to force the memories from her mind. As she watched the remaining sunlight sink behind the mountains, she turned from the window, deciding to tuck Henry in. Opening the door she rolled her eyes to see three guards standing by. Would they be with her everywhere? At all times? The idea that she would never have privacy again after living a solely private life made her blood boil. They fell in step behind her, and Emma ordered them to remain where they were. Henry's room was only two doors down, well within view of the ever watchful sentries. She knocked lightly, and upon Henry's invitation, she opened the door. He was already in his pajamas, reading a book by candlelight.

"Hey kid…" she said quietly, closing the door behind her. He forced a tight smile, his eyes drifting from the book to her.

"Hey mom…"

"How are you holding up?" she asked, sitting on the edge of his. He shrugged his shoulder passively, returning his focus to his book.

"Better than you…" came his curt reply. On a normal day she might argue with him, but after lying to him about Neal she promised she'd never lie again. She knew Henry didn't understand her sudden depression and isolation. She didn't know how to explain that she hated it here without somehow giving him the idea that he wasn't enough to make her happy. And the fear of knowing that eventually she'd have to tell him the truth ever gnawed at her.

"That's true…" she whispered hoarsely. She had worked so hard to get Henry away from Regina and now he was hers, yet she could barely talk to him. Silence was easier; she just didn't know how to tell him that she killed his mother – that she murdered the woman who raised him. In the end she had no choice – Regina made it perfectly clear that it was them or her; that she would never co-exist with Snow White.

"Why don't you like it here?" he asked bluntly, letting the book fall against his stomach. The kid was too smart for his own good…or rather, her comfort.

"It's not that I don't like it here, Henry, but that was my home for twenty-eight years. It was your home too, you were born there. It's easier to go through big changes when you're young…"

"But you were miserable in that world…" he argued innocently. There was no judgment, no anger to be heard in his voice.

"Yea, but it was still the world I knew. I was familiar with it and I know how it worked. It's just going to take me some time to adjust."

"Please don't take too much longer…it's no fun with you being so sad. I want us to be like we used to be during Operation Cobra…" Emma allowed herself to smile, leaning down to kiss his forehead. At least he didn't hate her. His arms wrapped around her neck and Emma hugged him tightly as if that alone could communicate how much she loved him.

"I'll do my best, kid…" she promised, rising from the bed to pull the covers up higher. "I love you, Henry, and you are the most important person in my life."

"I love you, too," he said quietly. She took the book from his hands, closing it as she set it on the nightstand.

"Good night kid…"

"Good night…" she blew out the candle, maneuvering slowly through the dimly lit room to his door. She may never grow accustomed to the absence of electricity. She closed the door silently behind her, re-entering her own room without as much as a glance to her guardians. With the guards posted in the hallway Emma knew she wouldn't be able to go to the garden. Hopefully, Gold would know to come to her bedroom when she called. She fell to the edge of her bed and before she could open her mouth to speak, a persistent banging echoed off the hollow stone walls.

"Emma!" her father called through the door. She could already hear the anger that edged his voice, knowing she was about to be lectured yet again for her recent behavior.

"Emma!"

"I'm coming!" she yelled, her voice shrill and tired. She yanked the door open, greeted by her father and three armed guards.

"Where is he?" David demanded pushing passed her into the room.

"Where is who? Ah…" she stopped the guards in their tracks ordering them to remain in the hall, slamming her door shut as hard as she could.

"Rumpelstiltskin…" he replied. Emma turned to see her father checking under her bed, and had to suppress the urge to laugh.

"Aren't I a little old for you to be checking for monsters under my bed?" David looked up from the floor clearly un-amused. She held his gaze defiantly, crossing her arms over her chest as he rose to his feet. "Even if he _was_ here he would've vanished at the first sound of your voice…"

"The guards saw you last night in the garden; they saw him take you away." He informed her. Her eyes closed briefly, suddenly feeling more like a prisoner than a princess. The guards were everywhere, and she knew it was a minor miracle that she escaped their notice as long as she did last night.

"I went willingly…"

"So I'm told…" he gritted through clenched teeth. He stepped towards her, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword as if he expected an ambush in her bedroom. "You will not see him again, Emma."

"I am not a child, you will not tell me who I can and can't associate with…"

"I am your father and King of this kingdom…" the sharp edge of his voice and the implications of his words struck her to the core. David never treated her like this in Storybrooke, ordering her around and treating her like a child. The fear that this would be her life forever was becoming entirely too real. It didn't help matters that she was being so rebellious, but she couldn't just put on a smile and pretend all was well.

"So, what I have to obey you like some loyal subject?" she asked incredulously, bitterness lacing her words. Her father's expression softened; his eyes distraught as he diverted them to the floor. "Where I come from I had free will whether my government liked it or not…"

"I know you're not happy here…" he whispered sadly, barely lifting his eyes from the ground. She fell to the edge of her bed with a heavy sigh, rubbing her face in her hands. It hurt her that her words were hurting him, that by not being happy she was causing them pain. That wasn't her intention. But she didn't know how to just be ok with all this.

"So your solution is to yell at me and make it worse?" she asked quietly.

"Emma, can't you at least try to be happy here?" her father pleaded emphatically.

"I am trying…I know you don't think so, but I am." Her voice was little more than whisper, fighting the tears that threatened to fall.

"Try harder…" came her father's stern reply "Henry doesn't understand…"

"Can we leave the kid out of this?" she snapped, surprised her father would stoop so low. "Henry is a child who is living every kid's dream – spending his days riding horses and sword fighting. I, on the other hand, am an adult. I had a life – a far from perfect life – but I was comfortable. You didn't even ask me if I wanted to come here, it was just _hey, majority rules, let's go_. Does Henry even know that we're on the brink of war?"

"He's a child, Emma; he doesn't need to know yet…" he almost whispered, having the good sense to look guilty.

"Right, just lie to him and let him believe we'll all get our happy endings…" Emma retorted sardonically. "Well, I'm sorry, but just because we're in fairy tale land doesn't mean we all get a happily ever after."

"Why are you so resistant to being happy? You're a princess living in a castle –"

"In the middle of nowhere with absolutely nothing! We don't have hot water, electricity, plumbing, TV, cars, phones – it takes hours to get to the nearest neighbors. How is this better? I feel like I'm being punished and I didn't even do anything wrong!" Hot tears brimmed her eyes and Emma quickly wiped them away before they could fall. She didn't want to yell at him, they had all been through too much and the last thing she wanted was to fight. She just needed him to understand, to give her some space to come to terms with all this.

"This _is_ your home, Emma; that wasn't where we belonged…" David replied quietly, though the sharp edge to his voice was gone. It was like he was reminding her of something she's always known, and that small statement was somehow going to make it all better.

"Well, it's where I belonged…and you ripped me away from there without a thought…" She couldn't even meet his eyes as she continued, "And this was never my home. You made that choice for me when you stuck me in a box and sent me to some other world."

"There was no other choice, Emma, and you aren't the only person in this family. Is it fair to us that we stay in a world that isn't ours?"

"It seems no matter which way you cut it, it's unfair to someone." She huffed, shaking her head in disbelief. "It seems like everyone gets to be happy except for me and I'm the savior – I'm the one meant to restore the happy endings. So, where's mine?" guilt flashed in his eyes, instantly replaced by a stern and serious stare.

"He's dangerous, Emma…" he said ardently as if that statement alone would deter her from seeing him.

"Not to me...and without him we wouldn't even have a roof over our heads right now or clothes on our backs…" At her own words, Emma realized she never thanked Rumpelstiltskin for the gift of her wardrobe. David almost laughed, shaking his head as he leveled her with a mocking glare.

"Don't be naïve. Just look at all that has happened to Belle because of her relationship with him. There's no _happily ever after_ with Rumpelstiltskin…" Emma set her jaw in a tight line – the more he pushed the more she wanted to push back. _So much for resolve…_

"Whether you like it or not, spending time with him makes me happy and if you keep pushing me, I will leave with him in the dead of night and you'll never see me again." She announced defiantly, knowing she sounded more like a stubborn two year old than an adult. "And I'm not naïve, I know exactly who and what he is capable of…" David pinched the bridge of his nose, his expression changing from mocking to pleading.

"Emma…"

"What do you want from me?" she demanded, rising from the bed. "What – you want me to be happy? Well, I'm sorry; I'm just not capable of happiness right now. You've torn me away from the only home I've ever known to a land overrun by ogre's all for what? So you can start a war to save your precious kingdom? How many people will have to die in the process so that you can have what you want?" she bit her tongue at the hurt and shocked expression on her father's face, covering her mouth as she sank back to her bed.

"We could've stayed in Storybrooke and been a family…we could've been happy." She whispered. She focused her gaze intensely on the stone floor, unable to bear that look in his eyes – sadness, hurt, anger and an overwhelming disappointment. His footsteps moved passed her heading to the door.

"You will not see Rumpelstiltskin again and that is final." She locked eyes once more with her father at the finality in his voice, ready to summon Rumpelstiltskin in that moment.

"Fine, I'll just go lock myself in the tower and save you the trouble." She retorted bitterly. She flinched as her bedroom door slammed once again, burying her face in her hands as she fell to the edge of her bed. This wasn't supposed to happen, everything was so wrong. She laid down, burying her face in her face in her pillow as she fought the onslaught of tears rushing to the surface.

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Feel free to review! Chapter 3 should be up sometime tomorrow...


	3. Heart Beat

A/N: And here is Ch. 3...mostly from Rumpel's POV. Enjoy!

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Rumpelstiltskin watched out the window, staring at the mountains where the sun had long since set. He had waited all day for that blasted ball of fire to sink from the sky, anticipating the sound of Emma's voice. Hours had passed, but still, she hadn't summoned him. It wouldn't have hurt so much if he didn't entirely believe every word she whispered last night. His mind told him it was too good to be true, but his heart leapt in joy that she might reciprocate his feelings. He was a fool among fools to believe that Emma could love him, could want him in this form. No, she was just lonely and miserable and looking for a warm body to keep her occupied. _It was just a well,_ he thought idly, walking to his wheel both angry and saddened at the same time.

Bae still loved Emma and despite that she didn't reciprocate his feelings, he would likely see a relationship between them as a betrayal. He searched for Bae for far too long to allow a woman to ruin his second and only chance with his son. He fell to the stool with a heavy sigh – and yet knowing all of that still didn't stop his heart from wanting her. He watched numbly as the straw turned to gold, trying to ignore the phantom feel of her touch. He tried to forget the soft whimpers that vibrated against his lips and the way she plastered her body against him, offering more than just a passionate kiss. It took every ounce of his will power not to lay her out on the table and take exactly what she offered.

"_Rumpelstiltskin_…" his chest tightened at the sound of her small voice, almost laughing in relief to hear it. He chided himself that he allowed himself to doubt, but given his history with women it was a safe assumption that Emma didn't want him, or was just using him for her own purposes. He went to her immediately, confused when he landed in her bedroom instead of the garden. She stepped into his embrace, her brow creased with worry as she brought her finger to his mouth before he could speak. Slipping his arms around her waist, the cloud engulfed them once more. They landed next to the table and Emma swayed his arms as if she might faint.

"That is gonna take some getting used to…" she mumbled, clutching his arms tightly for balance.

"Yes, it took a while for me too…" he said as the smoke cleared. She smiled then, her arms slipping around his neck as she pressed herself firm against him. His lips quivered as he forced a smile, tightening his arms around her if only to prove to himself that she was truly here.

"Welcome back, dearie…"

"Thank you…" she said sweetly. She stared at him, the anticipation in her eyes as she waited expectantly for his kiss.

"You look like you could use a drink…" he said, releasing her quickly. He could sense her disappointment as he put some distance between them, but he needed some kind of distraction before he could no longer be noble. He could use _several_ drinks, but he had the sneaking suspicion she needed a drink just as badly. Practically being held prisoner in that castle was clearly taking its toll.

"There's alcohol here?" she asked clearly surprised, moving slowly to his side. He giggled maniacally to mask his anxiety and with a wave of his hand, two goblets and a carafe appeared on the wooden table.

"Dearie, alcohol is the one thing that exists in every realm." She chuckled lightly as he filled their glasses. He finally met her eyes as he offered her a glass, and she accepted the offered drink with a grateful smile.

"Why am I not surprised…?" she whispered as their glasses clinked. He watched her closely as she took a sip, smiling at the surprised look on her face as she licked her lips, swirling the contents of the glass. "By the way, I never had a chance to thank you for my clothes, and the complete lack of dresses."

"Don't mention it love, it was the least I could do." He watched as Emma took another sip, licking her lips again as she studied the glass. He was pleased that she enjoyed it – for wine that was several hundred years old that had survived the curse it was perhaps the best wine he had ever tasted.

"I thought the least you could do was restore our castle." She challenged with a crooked grin.

"Yes well, castles can be quite drafty, can't have you running around naked and getting sick now can I? Actually, I rather like that image…" Emma almost choked on her wine at his words, setting the glass on the table as she coughed. He rubbed her back soothingly, hoping she wouldn't choke to death on their second date.

"Is your mother going crazy trying to make you a gown for the ball?" he asked as she caught her breath.

"Yes, actually…she's getting frustrated because she can't find any material to make it with. Although I'm not complaining at all…" A wicked idea popped into his mind and he decided to indulge it.

"Perhaps I could help…" he replied and with a wave of his hand, Emma's clothes were transformed into a full ball gown. She looked down in disgusted horror at the pastel pink poof of tool that now clothed her. He was barely able to suppress his laughter when she glared at him with fire blazing in her eyes.

"It suits you…" he managed to say before breaking into a fit of maniacal giggles.

"Undo it…right now..." though her tone was deadly serious, there was the slightest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. He complied with a snap of his fingers, returning her to her normal, more comfortable wardrobe. She sighed in relief, watching as the puffy sleeves and tight corset disappeared from her body. "Thank you."

"You're welcome…" they stood facing each other, an awkward silence filling the small space between them. Her eyes were searching as she stepped closer, and knowing her talent he knew she was trying to figure out why he hadn't kissed her. "I didn't think you were going to summon me…" he admitted quietly, sitting against the long wooden table.

"Don't tell me you were nervous I'd stand you up?" she asked; her eyes wide with amused disbelief.

"Honestly, yes…I was quite beside myself." He teased, watching her over the rim of his glass as he sipped his wine. Emma stared at him incredulously, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He set the goblet beside him and crossed his arms, barely meeting her eyes as he continued, "It's just that I know that you've been lonely and we were both a bit caught up in the heat of the moment last night. I suppose I just wanted to give you time to make sure that this – us – is what you truly wanted. And when you didn't summon me…I thought you had made your choice."

"I couldn't escape the guards…they saw us last night." She stated flatly.

"Ah," he looked away momentarily, unsure of what to do next. She was stepping closer, a look of sheer determination on her face as she leaned in for that kiss. He wanted to kiss her, wanted to hold her against him and never let go.

"How would you like a tour?" he offered instead, stumbling backward. Her brow was knitted in a confused mixture of want and fear, her eyes drifting between his eyes and his lips. Emma smiled politely, unable to hide the slighted look in her eyes. If he wasn't careful, she'd no doubt think he regretted last night, worse, that he didn't want her at all.

"I'd love one…" she agreed much to his surprise.

"Then follow me…" Emma met his eyes with a tentative smile, joining their elbows the way they had last night. He showed her all his trophies – from Jason's Golden Fleece, to Excalibur, to the hammer owned by the God of Thunder – careful to avoid the details of his deals. In the early days of when he had Belle he loved showing his cruel streak, demonstrating his _power_ over her and others. It didn't impress Belle then and she saw right through it. He had a feeling it would be the same with Emma. Though even now, the memories of how he acquired these items still made him feel that deceptive sense of power.

"I never really read Henry's book, but I guess I always thought it was full of, you know, fairy tale characters." Emma said mystified, studying the hammer in disbelief. She reached out her hand to touch it, quickly pulling back as if she would be struck by lightning.

"Well, this realm – this world – is full of characters from all storybooks. Merlin and King Arthur, the Greek 'myths', Thor…" he began as the double doors opened. Emma smiled as she fell in step beside him and with a gentle hand on her back, he led her from the great room, "Even if they're not in the Enchanted Forest, we're all connected to each other. That was actually Jefferson's specialty…jumping between worlds…" Emma nodded slowly, taking in all that he was telling her as he led her down the stone hallway to the dungeons.

"So if they're realities in this realm, how did they end up fairy tales in my world? It just seems like a hell of a lot of coincidence that they're all actually real." He stared at her as they walked, smiling at her curiosity. He himself didn't know how to answer that question.

"Well, every myth, legend, fable, and fairy tale is inspired by some kind of truth. But as stories are told and passed down, they change depending on the person telling them. Or perhaps, someone figured out a way to transcend the realm and ended up in that world, telling our stories to anyone who would listen." The doorway opened, and he began leading her down the cement staircase.

"But still, they would have had to travel pretty far back in time, before some of us…" Her voice trailed off as Emma stopped herself on the stairs, looking around in concerned confusion, "Where are we?"

"I was going to show you the dungeons…" he stated matter-of-factly. Her eyes widened and by the fearful and incredulous look on her face he knew they would be going no further.

"I'll take your word for it…that's not something I want to see…" she gripped his hand, pulling him behind her as she started back up the steps.

"As you wish…" he mumbled, too preoccupied by her perfectly shaped behind sashaying directly in front him to say anything else. _Gods how he wanted to touch her_, to transport them to his bedchamber and make love to her until the sun comes up. He forced himself to look away as they reached the top of the stairs. Where else could he show her? The rest of the castle was just ornate architecture, decoration and empty rooms…and showing her his potion room was out of the question.

"Not to bring up a sore subject, but who ended it between you and Belle?" she asked softly. He lifted his eyes to hers – pursing his lips in a tight line as he led her up the extravagant staircase. Emma looked around in amazed wonder, distracted by all that surrounded her.

"Both of us really…" He answered softly, "…when the kiss didn't work, it told us everything we needed to know." Emma gave him a look of pained understanding, tightening her elbow around him.

"When did she leave?"

"About two days after we arrived back…" her gaze dropped to the staircase with a barely audible _"Sorry…"_

"I'm not…" he admitted honestly, causing Emma to blush. As much as he still cared for Belle, his heart just wasn't in it anymore. His feelings for Emma had already taken root in his heart when Belle came back to him, and he felt a sense of obligation to Belle given all she had suffered on his behalf. It was as if he were settling for Belle, knowing Emma was out of his reach and she deserved so much more than that. He couldn't help but smile, thinking of how cruel fate can be, and how kind.

"So tell me, what's happening between you and your family?"

"Oh, they just don't understand. Henry can't understand why I'm so miserable and depressed here. Mary just keeps trying to cheer me up, but we don't talk much anymore. And David, he's resorted to just yelling and ordering me around as if that would make it better. We got into a fight tonight where I basically accused him of starting a war and risking everyone's lives just so he could get what he wants."

A pang of guilt struck him, knowing spending time with him as added stress to her life. At the same time, he felt an odd compassion for Charming, being in the same boat with his son. The only difference is that he gives Bae the space he asks and lets his son come to him on his own terms. The benefit of having such an oversized castle is that they barely see each other unless they want to, and he never forces a confrontation with his son.

"Are the ogre's still advancing then" he asked quietly, a somber edge to his voice. Emma nodded silently – he knew the fear she felt at the idea of war with the horrid creatures. He wished he could ease her mind, but he knew all too well what horror's awaited them. He scoffed, shaking his head as he realized just how useless all of this had been. At Emma's concerned gaze, he attempted to explain.

"I believe this is what they call irony or maybe it's karma…"

"What is? The ogre's war?" he nodded his head once in agreement, "I became the dark one to prevent my son from fighting in the ogre wars. I made countless deals and ruined how many innocent lives just so I could find him. And now here we are hundreds of years later, I just brought my son back and the ogres are about to attack again. If that's not irony, dearie, I don't know what is…"

"I don't think Bae will have to fight…"

"Who do you think will fight, Emma? It's not like your father has an army at his beck and call anymore. Even still, the ogre's are an indestructible enemy. Everyone who can wield a weapon will be called to fight and that will include my son." She looked away sadly, and he was already plotting the ways he will protect Bae. He didn't want to give her false hope too soon, but he was already planning a deal to be made – thus ending the war before it begins.

"Ah, here we are…" he said as the door opened itself. Emma peered inside the expansive bedroom curiously from the hallway. "My room," he answered before she could ask. She quirked a suggestive eyebrow as a crooked smile formed on her lips.

"What kind of girl do you think I am, Rumpelstiltskin?" she asked in mock offense, a challenging smirk splayed upon her lips as she stepped inside. He didn't actually know why he brought her here, knowing he had no intention of touching her. The sight of Emma in his bedroom stole his breath away, a vision he was certain he would never see. He watched her closely, closing the door behind him as Emma studied the king-sized bed – dragging her fingers over the red and gold silk sheets to the hand engraved wood of his bed posts. This room was too big, as was his bed, magnifying how lonely he was. It was a marvel to him that he survived hundreds of years here alone.

He would be noble, he promised himself again. Emma has known too much heartache already; his son betrayed her, Graham died, and as far as he knows she's never allowed anyone to truly love her. Given the emotional turmoil they were both in, the only way he could truly protect them both was to be cautious. It would be so easy to fall into bed and comfort each other, but he wanted more than that with Emma and he refused to settle for anything less. She turned slowly on her heel to face him as he closed the doors, walking slowly toward him. At a loss for words to her comment, with one hand behind his back, he bowed slightly extending his hand.

"May I have this dance, Milady?" Her smirk faded as her eyes dropped, looking at his hand as if it might burn her, her eyes shifting repeatedly from his hand to his eyes. He knew she's never danced before, and by the end of the evening he had a feeling his toes would be black and blue. But he didn't mind, it was an excuse to hold her in his arms.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" she challenged, "I'm not much of a dancer." His smiled only widened, raising his hand towards her. With a shy smile, Emma placed her hand in his without a word.

"Now, let's start with a simple waltz…" she nodded silently as he positioning her hand on his shoulder, taking her hand in his once more. He pulled her hip firm against his, causing her to lift her eyes with a flirtatious glare. "The first thing is to create the frame…keep your shoulders up to hold the frame and just follow my lead…" he continued, trying to focus on something other than the closeness of her body. _Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea, after all…_

"The steps are easy enough, when I go forward you go back. When I turn, you turn with me. I go back you come forward and so on. Shall we?" Emma nodded with a hesitant smile. He talked her through the steps as they began, keeping their dance at a snail's pace until she'd gotten used to the repetition of the movement. Her body was rigid in his arms; and it was adorable how intensely her gaze focused on their feet.

"Chin up…" he reminded her. He smiled when Emma lifted her lovely face, smiling shyly as he led her around the room. "You're a natural, dearie…" He complimented, slightly increasing the pace of their dance. She laughed at his words as if he were lying, but she held his gaze, proud of herself that she seemed to be getting the hang of it. He grunted and lunged forward as her foot landed directly on his toes.

"I'm sorry…" she said repeatedly, pushing away from him. He giggled as he straightened his body, pulling Emma back to him.

"It's alright, dearie. I heal…" he winked playfully. She looked downright fearful as he repositioned her arms, attempting to resume their dance. He could feel the tense lines of her body as he held her. Gripping her hands in his, he shook her arms gently as if to loosen them. "Just relax, Emma, drop your shoulders…"

"You told me to keep my shoulders up for the frame…" she replied somewhat defensively.

"Yes, to hold the frame, but keep them relaxed…" she sighed heavily in frustration, watching his feet once more. "Chin up…" he said pointedly, his finger lifting her chin. She forced a tight smile holding his gaze; he could see the struggle for her not to look at their feet. He kept the pace slow, but she put too much space between their bodies and he felt more like he was dragging her behind him. He stopped before they had taken a full ten steps.

"This is the waltz dearie, not a square dance…" he teased, readjusting her arms.

"Can't say I didn't warn you..." she laughed nervously, barely meeting his eyes. He studied her face intrigued, her eyes focused on his chest. It was a side to her he had never really seen before – Emma only ever portrayed herself as confidant and in command. Her vulnerability in a world she didn't understand was painfully evident, and the fact that she was so shy over a simple dance endeared her to him even more.

"You're too tense, love. Just relax your body, keep your shoulders down, elongate your neck and follow my lead…" he said soothingly. Emma nodded in understanding, following his instructions except one. Without a word he caught her chin between his fingers, lifting her face to see him. Of all the people to be teaching a princess to dance, he never thought it'd be him. Going from a lame spinner to the Dark One didn't exactly dance lessons. But over 300 three hundred years, he crashed enough balls and weddings to pick up the basics. As Emma's confidence increased, he could feel her body relax in his arms.

"So is it true that you wanted me to love you from the beginning?" she asked as their dance continued.

"Well, maybe not the instant I met you…I was being bombarded with my memories of Bae and Belle…a rather traumatic moment." He stated glibly. She stared at him confused – that obviously hadn't been the answer she was hoping for.

"See, when your parents came to me and asked me how to break the curse, my price was your name. It was my own failsafe against Regina as I knew the curse would take my memories as well. Hearing your name broke my curse…" he explained briefly. But he would never forget that night; the surreal moment of waking up and realizing who he was, the memory of letting go of his son returning to haunt him; his memories of Belle, believing she'd died, all flooded his mind with a frightening intensity.

"I would never have known, you were so calm that night…but it was creepy the way you leered at me…" she winked flirtatiously, obviously not too bothered by it. "You know, those first moments were what made me so aware of you – what made me think of you constantly."

He smiled down at her, separating their bodies as he twirled Emma away from him. A broad smiled formed on her lips as he pulled her back, holding her firm against him. Her eyes focused on his, flirting shamelessly with him as she slowed their steps, interrupting the flow of their waltz. He held her gaze, captivated by the bright green iris's that seemed to see straight through him. They had never spoken of the things that transpired between them in the short time they've known each other. It wasn't something he wished to drudge up, especially not now when they were looking toward a possible future together. He brought her hand to rest over his heart, content to just hold her in his arms.

"I will tell you…that from the beginning I wanted you to be able to trust me. I hoped that maybe I could even guide you. But it was that day when we were at the hospital when I started wishing that you could love me."

"Why? That's like my least favorite memory of you." _Well, almost, setting a bomb to make her sheriff wins that award_.

"I loved your strength and how fiercely you stood up to me and defended a total stranger. I couldn't very well explain that Ashley owed me her baby from a deal we made in another world, but you were fearless. It bothered me that everything I did to gain your trust and prove myself your ally made you fear me instead." She raised an eyebrow, pursing her lips in a tight line.

"I used to wish that the favor I owed you would turn out to be a dinner date or something, and then I could pretend to hate it while secretly getting to know you…" she admitted bluntly. He laughed outright at that – a genuine laugh, not his usual cackling.

"You know, I always wondered what you thought I would ask of you…" he asked as he caught his breath.

"Oh at first my mind ran the gamut and I dreaded that you would ask for something perverted. I even thought you would ask me to make the charges against you disappear the night I arrested you. But you didn't, and for everyday that you didn't ask or demand anything from me, it helped me to trust you a little more. It showed you respected me…"

"And I still do…" he said softly, bringing her hand to his lips. A large part of him regretted that he was never honest with Emma. All this time that was wasted when they could have been together.

"I know…" she whispered, beaming up at him as he kissed her hand. He smiled, staring in awe at the woman in his arms.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sudden turn of events, or the admission of her true feelings that had come out of nowhere. This all still felt like a glorious dream and that at any moment he would wake up and nothing will have changed. Belle would still be gone, and Emma would still hate him. Emma rested her head on his shoulder, and his heart raced frantically despite that their dance had all but stopped. Her fingers snaked into his hair, nuzzling her cheek to his. If only she knew how much he desired her, how much he was struggling to remain noble, she wouldn't press herself against him like that. Her eyes wouldn't flirt with him so suggestively if she knew how much turmoil he was in. If only he was stronger he might be able to tell her. Somewhere in these enchanted halls was his son, the father of his grandson – the man who still carried a torch for the woman in his arms.

For the first time in a long time he felt at a loss of what to do. No visions offered him a clear path to be taken. They were walking a very tight rope and he had a feeling that the price of being together would be a high one. His eyes closed, resting his cheek to the crown of her head, savoring this moment for all it was worth. Even if they were doomed to fail, at least he could have these few precious memories. Gold's hand on her back expanded its field of exploration. His fingers traveled up to the nape of her neck, slipping under her hair to briefly stroke her skin. A soft moan escaped her lips and he opened his eyes, trying to see her face.

"What are you grinning at?" he asked quietly, shattering the silence. Her eyes opened, her smile widening as she lifted her eyes to meet his.

"Just happy…being in your arms."

"Well, I'm happy to keep you here, but your father may have me beheaded." He was only joking, but Emma clearly didn't find it funny as the smile faded from her lips.

"Can we not talk about my father?" she asked quietly.

"As you wish…" he whispered, trailing his fingertips along the edge of her face. Her body visibly relaxed, leaning into his touch. A small smile formed on her lips, closing her eyes as he closed what little distance remained between them.

Pressing his lips to her temple, he kissed a slow line down her jawline. Everything last night became so desperate – a need to kiss her, to touch her, to lay her down and make love to her. They both wanted it, and it was a miracle he was able to stop himself. He closed his lips over her mouth, determined to keep the pace slow and sensual. Anything more and he might not be able to control himself. As his lips began to claim her, she wrapped her arms around him, one hand moved around his back, holding him. Her other hand reached up to gently grip the back of his head, holding him in place – _as if he needed convincing to stay_…

Time no longer existed; sound was limited to sighs and swallowed moans as their kiss continued. Gold's hand pulled her head closer, deeper into the kiss just as she was doing to him. Neither one wanted to go, he knew. It felt too good to end. As their tongues probed and thrust against each other, their hands continued to explore. Her hand slid from his hair, down his neck and coming to rest on his chest. Gold's arm moved down agonizingly close to her ass, but swerved around to her front to briefly caress her thighs. He then moved up her body, quickly realizing he was too close to her breasts. Instead, his other hand moved up to stroke her cheek, the pads of his fingers running over her skin gently as he pulled his lips away.

"You are such a tease…" she whimpered against his lips, burying her face in his neck as she hugged him against her. His hands dropped down, skimming her back lightly, finally resting just above her waist. A scant inch further and his hand would be caressing the subtle curve of her ass.

"I apologize, love…I was getting carried away…" he replied hoarsely, kissing the crown of her head as he struggled to catch his breath.

"You say that like it's a bad thing…" she mumbled, her breath hot on his skin.

"No, not a bad thing, I just don't want to rush." He whispered against her ear. With a pang of regret, the red cloud engulfed them transporting them back to Emma's room. It was safer here – he didn't trust himself remain noble too much longer.

Emma remained in his arms, opening her eyes to see her bedroom. Her door was still closed and the castle was silent. As far as she could tell no one had been aware of her absence. "Will you stay with me a little while?" she whispered hopefully.

"I really don't think I should…" Emma forced a tight smile, nodding in acceptance as she pulled herself from his arms. She glared at her empty bed, lamenting that she would be alone another night. With a disappointed sigh, she fell to the edge of the bed kicking off her boots. Sleeping alone was never something that bothered her – it shouldn't be bothering her now.

"But then, what kind of man would I be to deny such a sweet request?" came his quiet voice. Emma smiled brightly at his words, moving to the center of the bed.

"An incredibly cruel one…" she teased, watching him expectantly.

"And I've never been known to be cruel…" he said mockingly, careful to keep his voice down. He climbed beneath the covers beside her, lying on his back and Emma wasted no time in cuddling up against him. Her head rested on his shoulder, her hand dragging over his chest and stomach through endless layers of clothes. She couldn't help but smile in the silence, feeling his heartbeat racing as frantically as hers was. She released a deep sigh of contentment, cuddling close to his side.

"There's one thing I must ask you…" he asked in hushed tones, though there was no mistaking the somber edge in his voice, "…are you still in love with my son on any level?" _So that was why he was so distant and awkward tonight…_ she realized with some measure of guilt. And who could blame him? She just reunited father and son and this situation couldn't get any more bizarre then if they were on a soap opera. Emma propped her head on her elbow, trying to look down at him. It was hard to see his eyes with the dim light in the room as she exhaled heavily.

"No…I was a teenager then and he was the first man who was ever kind to me. Well, until he had me arrested. Whatever _love_ I had for him died the moment the handcuffs slapped around my wrists." She stated firmly, hoping to ease his mind. He laced their fingers together over his chest, his fingertips dragging up and down the back of her arms as she laid over him.

"I only ask because if we go through with this, it's going to make things incredibly complicated – more so than they already are. I need to know that I'm not just part of some rebellious phase you're going through and that this is what you truly want." She contemplated his words, not answering too soon. She knew he was right, she knew being with him would complicate every other relationship in her life. Yet knowing that wasn't enough to stop her heart from wanting him. She wanted her happy ending. After everything, she deserved that at least.

"I know it's going to make things awkward and I can't honestly say I'm looking forward to it, but you are what I want." she whispered against his ear, making sure he heard her.

"Well, then, I am all yours, my love…" "…now roll over so I can hold you properly…" Emma snickered softly, rolling onto her side. His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back against him. A contended sigh escaped her lips, snuggling back into the warmth of his hard body. This is all she's wanted – the feel of his body pressed against her back, his breath warm on her skin, the solidness of his arms holding her close – and it was finally a reality.

"Comfortable?" she moaned softly, her eyes drifting closed.

"Extremely…" she breathed, her skin tingling as his fingertips dragged lazily over her forearm. She shivered as his lips pressed softly to the shell of her ear, "Sweet dreams, princess…" he whispered, tightening his arms around her, encompassing her body.

Rumpelstiltskin could hardly believe this was happening; the warmth of her body pressed flush against him buried together in a heap of thick covers was as sweet as it was temptuous. Her blonde curls splayed out wildly on the pillow and his arm. He reached out, gently pulling her hair away from her neck and face. She shivered as the cool air of the room touched her skin of her bare shoulder. With a wave of his hand, the dying fire roared to life, illuminating the chilled room. She looked even lovelier in sleep, so peaceful – watching her sleep is something he could easily get used to as his fingers combed softly through her thick curls. Her breathing became steady and even, and he knew she had fallen asleep. He didn't want to let go, he especially didn't want to leave. But he knew he couldn't stay, if he were caught here it would make life impossible for Emma, more so than it already was.

Gently, he tightened his arms around her, hugging her against him as he tenderly kissed her upraised shoulder and down to the base of her lovely neck. Telling Bae he was in love with Emma would be one of the hardest things he's ever had to do. He just kept telling himself that if Emma truly wanted to be with Bae, she would be. It gave him hope and it crushed his heart in the same breath. Equally, the last thing he wanted was to drive a wedge between her and her family when she had searched so long for them. But he loved Emma, and he knew he would fight for the chance to be with her. His eyes drifted closed in exhaustion at the prospect of the upcoming battles – Bae, her family, the ogre's – vowing to only stay a few more moments.

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As always, I hope you enjoyed it. Please review :)


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